There was one particular conference conversation that devolved into defensiveness on both sides and I’ve been thinking about that for days now. For the sake of brevity, let’s just say that it boiled down to one person saying, “I’d like my child to take his dirty oatmeal bowl to the kitchen instead of leaving it in the living room,” and the other side saying, “But that’s your need, not his so if it’s important to you, you take it to the kitchen.” What does that have to do with unschooling, you ask? Don’t ask. Just go with it. Don’t worry about it unless you are an unschooler. And if you are, join a yahoo group and ask them. It will be fun, I promise. Anyway…

One thing led to another and there was shouting. It wasn’t pretty. I can’t speak for the other people, but I know that my defensiveness can be attributed to my own baggage. Those two sentences up there are rife with subtext, depending on the baggage each listener carries. When some people hear, “That’s your need, you can take care of it,” they interpret that as, “The precious baby children never, ever, ever have to help clean up anything. Ever! And you’re a big fat meanie for telling them to.” As a recovering doormat, I have all kinds of that baggage for sure. When I hear that, I imagine scenarios in which I am called upon to do everything all the time with no option for anyone else in the family to pitch in. I look even more haggard than usual in those imaginary scenes. You guys, I can’t afford to look more haggard. For real.

On the flip side, when somebody in the audience at an unschooling conference says, “I think my child can clean up after himself,” some people interpret that as, “I think it’s okay if I scream at my child in order to get him to clean up his stupid crap that’s spread from one end of the house to the other.” I have maybe a carry-on size piece of that baggage, too. I imagine all sorts of scenarios with a shrew-like parent barking orders and belittling the kid. In those scenarios, I’m the wide-eyed little kid and I was a super cute little kid so those imaginary scenes are especially heartbreaking.

I know for sure that my sizable baggage collection and my knee-jerk defensiveness really don’t allow me to see the middle ground that might be there in both of those instances.

Maya (6) gave me a perfect example to show me where our middle ground is. She wanted some hot chocolate and she wanted to drink it in the living room. I said, “Sure, just bring your mug to the kitchen when you’re done.” A half hour later Maya was off doing something else in the kitchen and I walked through the living room on my way to the kitchen and I saw the half-empty hot chocolate mug on the coffee table. Here is where the middle ground came in. I had a choice. I could call Maya back out to the living room and say, “Young lady, I thought I told you to take care of this mug,” or I could just take it with me on my way out to the kitchen and not say anything. I did the latter and when she saw me bringing her mug to the kitchen she said, “Oops! I forgot!” and I said, “No big whoop, I was coming out here anyway,” with a smile and we both moved on because it’s not a big deal if my kid forgets to take her mug to the kitchen when she’s done with it. If I had been in the living room with her when she got up to go to the kitchen, I might have breezily said, “Grab your mug, Sweetie,” and she would have done it without a second thought. No big deal.

The situation playing out in just that way is what I strive for. Cleaning up is not a big deal. I didn’t take it as a personal attack that she didn’t pick up her mug. It had nothing to do with me. I didn’t need to shame her for forgetting and it’s not just because of her age. I don’t want to emotionally manipulate any of the members of my family in order to get them to do something for me. I don’t want to withhold affection until they do whatever I ask them to do. I also don’t want to just never ask them to do something like take care of their mug because it’s no big deal. It’s a big picture thing, not a nit-picking, point by point, make sure the scales are always balanced kind of thing.

I asked her to take it to the kitchen, knowing she would likely forget just like I sometimes forget my own mug because I get distracted by something. No big deal. Why did I say something, knowing she would likely forget about it? The same reason I say, “That’s a flower,” to a baby who can’t say “flower.” It’s part of the language of our family and it’s a skill that will be picked up and used and then put away and not used from time to time. Because cleaning up is no big deal and forgetting to clean up is also no big deal. This is not setting her up for failure, because I don’t consider forgetting to take care of a mug a  failure. We don’t treat it that way, so it’s not.

And now a fun thing from Maya. “The jaguar is stalking the hot dog.”

She likes to cut out pictures and make them do stuff together. This is what it looks like when she’s done:

And later I say, “Pick up the pictures that you want to save because I’m putting the scraps in the recyclables,” and she sorts them out and I scoop up the scraps and then she plays with the pictures again and it’s no big deal.

I don’t like to do the stupid notifying and I guarantee the school district doesn’t like to have to read and respond to all of the notifications. It takes time and money and I’m strapped for time and money and I know the poor saps at the office of Pupil Outreach or whatever are strapped for time and money, too. I know they are because it’s on the news all the time. Lame.

We’re supposed notify within 2 weeks of the start of the school year and I have forgotten about it until late August every single year until this year. Well, technically, I haven’t even notified yet, but the assessments are done. They’ve been done since May. I’ve just been procrastinating on the bit about writing the how-I-plan-to-teach-5th-and-1st-grade stuff. I don’t like to do that. I suddenly get very Ron Paul and I’m all “They’s my babies and I’ll do what I wants with ‘em!” Which, of course, is the stereotype that they’re trying to combat by making us do this kind of junk. This year, I just want to write, “I’m fixin’ ta let the young ‘uns lookit the internit and I’ll haul ‘em to the liberry every once in a while, too, iff’n they finish they chores on time,” and see what happens.

The thing is, we can say we’re going to do anything. ANYTHING. And then we don’t have to prove that we did any of it. See why it’s a silly system? I think the kids might have learned more in Michigan when I wasn’t bitter and didn’t have an unnatural urge to not do what I said I was going to do on the notification. So there, Laws! I think I get this attitude from Maya. My children have all taught me wonderful, precious things like how to love and be loved and how to annoy and be annoyed and whatnot. Maya (and maybe South Park) has taught me all about disdain for authority. Last night, she asked me to read the “How to Go Green-and make every day Earth Day!” tips out of the back of one of her lib’ral learnin’ books. After I rattled off the list of 7 tips she said, “Well, they’re not the boss of us.” And I said, “You’re right, honey, nobody’s the boss of us. Let’s go light some garbage on fire!” She wrapped her little arms around my neck and said, “I love you, Mommy.” Truly a precious moment.

(Cue mature motherly voice) I will notify today (or maybe by the end of the month, we’ll see), but the notification will be incomplete because true learning True Learning happens in those moments like I had with Maya last night. We can’t possibly plan those organic “teachable moments” which will stay with a child throughout her lifetime. So suck it, Ohio, because you’re not the boss of me.

This picture is a pretty good indicator of how Maya is all the time. Her mouth never closes and she’s always moving or posing. If she were my firstborn, I would have ruined that by now. She’s one of those self-motivated learners that I used to dream about before I had actual kids and only ever had dream kids. If Maya were my firstborn I would have taken her conventional, easily measurable learning style and I would have made it my thing and she would probably be having migraines at the sight of pencils by now. It happens. But it’s easy to just let the third child be. The first child (or set of children, as the case may be) does all the hard work, teaching us what’s really important and how everything all comes out in the wash. Nice of them. Maya can thank Lena and Liberty. They really had to work hard to show me everything will always be ok.

Lena and Liberty are unconventional learners and I used to panic about silly things at least quarterly until about 2 years ago. When it’s not easy for me (and The Entire World) to point to progress and measure “success” with grades and honor rolls, it’s hard to relax. At first. We have all of this hope (and fear) and all of this expectation (and fear). Academics can be measured, so it’s easy to feel like they’re the most important thing. But by the time the 3rd kid is here, we understand that these things all come out in the wash for the unschooly as well as for the schooly. It’s the kid’s life that’s the important thing. And we understand that she doesn’t need us to drive her and guide her as if her future depends on it because her future doesn’t actually depend on it. She has her own drive and we’re just there to supply the stuff for her that goes along with her particular brand of drive. Her future really only depends on knowing who she is and what she wants and knowing how to get it. Really. Besides, even the super-smartest child eventually turns into an average kid when all the other kids’ learning starts coming out in the wash so what’s the point of getting their identity all wrapped up in being the smartest when most everybody catches up eventually? Then they have to be all anorexic or drunk or something in order to stand out and that’s no fun for anybody. Nobody wants a drunk 7 year old on their hands. Then you’re in a pickle. Especially if the 7 year old was an early reader or math genius, then they really know about proof and alcohol content and stuff. Then where does all that learning get them? In the gutter! And then on a reality show with Dr. Drew or something. So sad.

We went to Kalahari Waterpark and Resort for a few days with our friends and a bunch of other alternative educators for the Unschoolers Winter Waterpark Gathering. I like to go to those convention-type things and have veteran unschoolers pump me full of comforting sunshine right in the middle of winter. It might be my favorite thing. I’m not technically an unschooler because unschoolers are all about teaching everything through life and experience and connections and, well, I use a math curriculum in a box. I avoid math at all costs in my daily life, so it would be hard to teach just by living. A radical unschooler would say, “Well, that just goes to show that you can get by just fine without it.” To which I would reply, “But I don’t want to be the one who has to add up everybody’s points every time we play Uno.” To which the radical unschooler would say, “then play Uno more often so they can get the hang of it.” To which I would reply, “Uno makes me want to stab somebody. And so does this conversation.” The end.

So I use the curriculum (complete with script!) to teach the maths. So, while I’m not technically an unschooler, I’m generally more comfortable around unschoolers than school-at-homers. You will never catch me at a homeschooling conference for people who log school hours and have subject checklists and who are otherwise homeschooling for excellence. I just really do believe that a kid can learn 4 years worth of high school math, english, or anything in 6 weeks or less. I just don’t want to count the Uno points, so…math curriculum. Otherwise easy-breezy, so…unschoolers conference.

The conference was fun and I loved going to the Rethinking Education type chats while the kids were off playing in the waterpark or taking part in a DS tournament or watching a bunch of other unschoolers play Rock Band or getting a Leaf Village henna tattoo:

But I think what I loved most (besides partying in our room with Lynne and Kristen and their families) was not being the brand-new mom in the room with the “But what if they never learn anything?” question. I used to be that mom at least quarterly, if not more often, but now I have friends with bigger unschooled kids and I see how it turns out alright. And I have kids who are almost 10 and I can see it turning out alright. I can’t tell you how often their experience with certain things that might not be “educational” in other people’s eyes (*cough* graphic novels) has turned out to be the spark that lit the fire of (traditional) education under them in ways that a chapter from a textbook never could. I think interest and freedom in education are two of the most powerful tools we have.

We all have things from school that have stayed with us or left us right after the test. Me? Everything left after the test. Unless it was grammar, which was already part of my soul for the 17 years before I had my first real grammar class. See how my interest helped me? See? I hated being forced to read certain books and then write a  paper about them. I just think that’s mean and not at all helpful. And! And I never spent more than one night writing one of those papers. (I just made a long and boring list of things I hated about school, but I deleted it and I’m just going to say, all of those things I hated? They left me stained with contempt and uninterested in the subject for life.)

Oh, hi, I should say that this post is not to incite debate over school choices and whatnot because, really, I don’t care how anybody else’s kids are schooled because in the end, I think it all just turns out fine no matter what. You can send your kid to public school for 13 years and he’ll find an interest and turn it into a life or not, and I can homeschool like this and my kids will find an interest and turn it into a life or not. Either way, they grow up and make their way in the world and they gather the tools they need in order to make the way they want. I’m just saying the conference was fun, I see this life working for my kids, I’m glad I’m not worried about it anymore, and I’m glad I have friends who can support each other in this life, and Uno makes me stabby.

I’m kind of lazy, so I like it when the homeschooling comes easy.

Maya was still sick (as evidenced by the strategic toilet paper), so we missed watching the inauguration at Studio 35 with our entire neighborhood, but we managed to have fun anyway. Well, I did. The girls were kind of over it months ago when we dragged them to the Springsteen for Obama shindig. Nonetheless, Lena and Liberty did get a little thrill when CNN announced that Obama would be using the Lincoln Bible for his swearing-in ceremony. We’ve been reading Abraham Lincoln: 10 Days that Shook Your World so that was exciting for them. A little less exciting was the introduction of the Supreme Court because I guess when we read about the Dred Scott case (day 2 of Lincoln’s 10 days thingy) and I talked about the Supreme Court’s supremacy and lifetime appointments, they took that to mean that the Justices were all, um, immortal or something. Lena and Liberty were momentarily disturbed that these evil justices would be allowed at  Barack Obama’s inauguration. I guess it’s understandable since all of the villains in their favorite stories are immortal. Orochimaru, I’m looking at you. Anyway, once I saw the look of horror on their faces, I cleared that up and they were good to go. Sometimes little tidbits of information that I think go without saying, actually need saying. It’s exhausting.

We watched, I cried repeatedly, they looked at me, I said, “Happy tears! Isn’t it amazing?” And they shrugged. They’re most likely racist.

Just this minute I told them I’m blogging about the fact they got a little thrill at the mention of the Lincoln Bible and Liberty said, “We weren’t thrilled!” and Lena said, “We just pretended!” Then I told them I’m writing about their thinking the Supreme Court was immortal and they both denied it, but when I said, “I saw the look of horror on your faces until I cleared it up!” They laughed and blushed. If I were a good mother, I would edit the post so as  not to embarrass them, but I think it’s more embarrassing for me so I’m leaving it in.

*sigh* We watched Girls Rock last night at the Wexner Center and I cried all through it because it was awesome. And then I yelled at Bryan because, well, he’s a boy and he didn’t even have to learn that he rocks. And it’s not fair! But then, Dawn’s Girls Rock post makes a good point about boys and their struggles and whatnot, so I guess I won’t yell at him today. For being a boy.

The movie inspired my girls to play the drums (Liberty), play guitar and drums (Lena), and play guitar and drums and sing (Maya). And Bryan and I were inspired to pay for stuff that would enable those endeavors. Finally, the girls are doing what they’re supposed to by living out my dreams so that I can live through them. Er, maybe it’s not supposed to be about me and my dreams? I can’t remember. The world is so confusing after seeing Girls Rock.

Anyway, Kids Know Stuff is giving away a Washburn guitar soon and now I wish we could win it. Except it’s kind of ruined because it has either Hannah Montana or Camp Rock paint splashed all over it. I’m sure a kid would like it, but whatever.

We’re going to the Wexner Center to watch two more movies today: Jump and Children of Heaven. I’m sure Jump will inspire a jump rope purchase. I just hope Children of Heaven doesn’t inspire me to make the children share one pair of shoes. I’m easily swayed by visual media.

Sometimes it doesn’t matter if it’s a boring book. It’s important to learn about important people in history. And now that he’s our president, I felt comfortable putting it on Kids Know Stuff. I didn’t feel comfortable before because I thought somebody would see it and then make me review that John McCain book by his heir-head daughter. I just can’t support Meghan McCain. As a daughter from my dad’s first marriage, it enrages me that she excluded Sen. McCain’s first marriage and her own half-brothers (half-, not even step-) from the book. Plus, she’s super rich and not that talented. I heard her once on NPR and she was all, “Like, yeah, it was super sweet writing that, like, book about my, um, dad and stuff?” And then I punched the car radio in the face.

Why am I still talking about politics? I’m not, I’m talking about my kids. That’s why this post is going under the “I Homeschool” category and not “I Like Politics?” I homeschool. And part of homeschooling is Kids Know Stuff. And part of homeschooling is being called racist by your mother. They have to learn.

I’ve been using Kids Know Stuff as a homeschool tool because, as a quasi unschooler, I have to pretend that every single thing we do has some sort of educational value. It might actually be true in this case, though.

Lena and Liberty write their own reviews and sometimes they write Maya’s reviews if they feel like it. Or sometimes they throw a hissy fit and wail about how it’s boooorrriinnnggg and then I have to write Maya’s reviews and then punish them later (i.e. “I wish you could have a friend over, but I’m just ever so tired from writing that review for Kids Know Stuff *sigh*”).

They run the spell check, then we go over the proofreading together and talk about why edits are made. Lena and Liberty can type well thanks to Dance Mat Typing, which they were addicted to last year, but if they’ve had a hard-working day, I’ll let them dictate to me. I type exactly what they say, even if it’s weird.

Sometimes I have to tell them what questions their review should answer, sometimes they’re overflowing with ideas and they need no prompts at all. Sometimes I ask Maya why she likes something and she replies with, “Tushie!” and we just try again later.

The kids choose the transitions between clips, the effects, the titles, the font, the colors, and the music. Lena and Liberty like the colors of the “Buy us stuff we like only!” title at the end of each video to tie in with the product in some way. For instance, brown-on-brown for the Indiana Jones review because, in their words, “Brown is an Indiana Jones color.” (Yes, they both said that at the same time. Sometimes they’re very twin-ish.) Maya usually chooses pink-on-pink. I hope it’s not because, in her world, pink is a tushie color.

It’s been a lot of fun and we hope the site continues to grow, but I have to be careful that I don’t burn them out, which means they won’t update every day. So, since Christmas is coming, you should totally subscribe to our feed so you don’t miss out on giveaways and gift ideas.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2PqdGj1Eg_c

We can’t post every day anymore because we’re busy doing a lot of fun stuff during the week. We recorded some of the things we do, but we also do things like go apple picking, volunteer at political things, and go to free concerts. But we have lots more cool reviews coming soon and we’ll have more giveaways, too!

P.S. We forgot to record my gymnastics class, but that’s something else I do. And even though I’m not in the rollerskating part, I was there! I love rollerskating!

P.P.S. We have to do our homeschool work, too!

Lena

The song is Dare by Gorillaz.

The kids all said they thought it would be boring, but it ended up being fun. They decorated signs, they talked to other campaign workers about our country and what needs to change. Liberty couldn’t sleep because she’s worried Sarah Palin is coming for her uterus. And it’s not even ripe yet. I’m kidding. Sort of. She actually did misconstrue “taking away women’s reproductive rights” as being the same thing as slavery, though. Wait, maybe she actually understood it better than most people. Smart kid, that Liberty.

So I made almost 70 phone calls, talked to 7 real people, 2 of those people hung up on me, 4 were already voting for Obama so we talked about morning sickness, cost of college, racism, etc. And 1 person was translating for his Chinese mother and he told me he wasn’t planning to vote because he has a tiny baby. Yeah, I don’t get it either, but I said, “Well then you especially have to vote for Obama so the tiny baby can afford to go to college!” and then I read a little bit off of my script about the American dream and whatnot. It was super fun and I LOVED leaving the scripted messages on answering machines. I’ll do it again. My kids will do it again. I don’t care if, as some people say, it doesn’t make a difference in the grand scheme of things; it made a difference in my kids’ education and it was fun. I’m all about the fun memories and this was a good one.

I’m trying to get on a new schedule for fall homeschooling. I’m all gung-ho and inspired in the fall, before the holidays come and I get complacent. And by “holidays” I mean Labor Day. Having a schedule involves actually scheduling things, which involves heart palpitations when I’m behind schedule. I don’t like that. But instead of abandoning the schedule, I’m going to just decide that it’s ok if I’m a little bit behind schedule from time to time. I tend toward the all-or-nothing, so if I have a schedule, I feel like it must be followed to the minute. That’s not true, though, right? I didn’t think so. Not in my line of work, anyway. Kids can feed themselves if they’re hungry and lunch is behind schedule. So says I. And if they don’t like that, they can try to figure out a way to get mommy some wine delivered right to her door. Then I would feed them on time. Probably.